The Eyes of the Beast
by A-chan5
Summary: Hojo has named me, Red XIII. A name with no meaning whatsoever to me. Call me whatever you wish. [Snippets to explore the mind of the beast with more wisdom and intelligence than most humans.]
1. Not a Weapon

People always paid attention to Cloud's sword. Nanaki could understand why; it was big, ostentatious and the guy waved it around as he would a stick. In the face of that strength and ability, the spatula jokes were forgotten very, very quickly.

He received a fair share of fear himself, but he didn't actually try to encourage it like, say, Yuffie. He had more to win from keeping to the side, looking like the tamed animal his foes preferred seeing him as. A good dog at Cloud's heels that would not attack less it was ordered to. That made them watch the sword and the hands, just in case they raised to snap an order.

It always created rather interesting encounters.

The soldiers before them reeked of fear, the stench stronger than the oil and leather and other military scents. Their eyes were riveted on Cloud, who casually held his sword to his side. Occasionally they would dart to him, but never for long. After all, he was patiently sitting, with no hackles raised or showing any other menacing sign.

"Don't move!" The foremost soldier ordered, his rifle shaking in damp hands.

"I haven't." Cloud slowly, deliberately raised his sword to let it rest point down on the floor. No matter their superior forces, a bullet could cause serious damage before the soldiers were taken out.

Silently, Nanaki charged energy into a Fire materia, reaching for the weaker spell. No need to waste energy on them; one spell would be enough to disable them long enough to finish the battle safely by hand. The only tricky part was to avoid causing any reflex shots when the spells hit.

"Stop, I said!" the soldier insisted. Nanaki titled his head slowly, licking at a paw absentmindedly. "And keep your beast in check!"

Always amusing, that. He might have felt humiliated once at this lack of recognition in his regards, but now he'd grown to enjoy how their faces lit up with understanding and fear when they realized he wasn't under anyone's control. That he was on the same level of intelligence, maybe even higher than these fool's.

An intelligent beast knew battle tactics.

The air was heavy with fear and tension, so much that it stuck to his throat and made him want to growl. He kept control, however, waiting. He waited for the moment where it would be safe to pounce, when those guns would waver in angle just enough that his speed would cover the distance before a bullet could be fired.

Safety.

"Do you really think he's under anyone's command?" Cid growled from where he'd been passively waiting, knowing the routine.

Eyes widened. Nanaki smelled the sour stench of sweat as he pounced forward. A shout was stopped in the throat as he bit down and prevented it from escaping. Blood flowed down his own throat, hot and thick. Bullets ripped the air, aimed harmlessly to the ceiling. Plaster rained down to powder his black mane gray.

"Fire!" It was a panicked command, issued in the light of the attack. Nanaki raised his head from the ripped throat of the corpse, saw the barrel aimed at him and rolled, dodging the bullet that sent a spray of dark blood rising from the lifeless body of the soldier.

The fire spell was shot, hitting a soldier standing in retreat as he prepared for a spell of his own. His concentration broke and he yelled as flames gouged his eyes.

Only one left near him that the others hadn't taken care of, that could be bothersome. He had turned towards the rest of the party, maybe meaning to catch them by surprise; Nanaki didn't know, nor did he care. A snap at his shins brought him reeling back. He'd forgotten the beast, thought it had been still occupied with a determined prey.

"Never turn your back on an enemy," he growled, occasioning a frozen fear to cross the soldier's features.

"You talk!" he said hoarsely. It took him a second before he remembered to aim his rifle.

"I do more than play parrot," Nanaki retorted and jumped, grabbing the weapon barrel between powerful jaws.

A bullet grazed the fur of his shoulder as the soldier fired in panic and he heard his dismayed groan at the missed shot. A yell reached his ear, accompanied by the silent whistling sound of Cloud's falling sword. The agony of the other soldier's charred face had been put to an end. A few bullets threw a broken rhythm in the air before being silenced by blades. The other soldiers were down.

The soldier grappled with him, refusing to release the riffle.

Foolish.

Nanaki allowed him to raise him off his front legs. Hind ones took the weight as two paws came to rest on the man's chest. Deadly claws shredded blue material, were hampered by leather protection that prevented them from reaching vital organs. Groans from the soldier, growls from the beast.

So long as the gun was still there, Nanaki could not risk another wayward shot in a direction he ignored. He couldn't throw him on his back; comrades would be in danger of being hit.

Nanaki immobilized him, tasting metal as the barrel howled under the pressure of his jaws yet refused to yield. He pushed, upsetting the man's balance, forcing him to raise his gun to the ceiling.

A spearhead ripped through the soldier's throat from behind. Blood rained down on him, washing the plaster from his fur in a red current. The riffle remained silent.

"Should've listened to him," Cid growled, pulling his weapon free.

Nanaki released the gun, licking blood and gunpowder from his chops and hating the taste. He joined his party, moving away from the dead soldiers.

Everyone was safe. Minor injuries. Grazes.

Nanaki was an animal, yes, but he was not a breathing weapon at his master's side. He was a fighter, and these soldiers had paid dearly their ignorance.


	2. Blood Hunt

Nanaki wondered if they realized what they were doing by allowing him near chocobos. Obviously, his intelligence and talking had made them forget his true nature, that he was far from human.

The birds' smells were thick in the air. Hay, greens, the birds' own particular odor, droppings and other such smells. And though it managed to make a repulsive mix to most insensitive humans, Nanaki drank in the stronger smell with delight.

To him, it was the scent of a good hunt, of a challenging chase and a tasty reward. Of old memories that had been carved into his skin.

He'd never told them the role his race gave chocobos. They preferred thinking that he saw them as convenient animals, just like humans. It might be better, that, or else they would never allow him near the birds or on the ship when Cloud brought one of his beasts along.

Speaking of which, Cloud was pulling his favored black by its halter, guiding it out of the ranch to the awaiting Highwind close by. The bird was a feisty thing, with a bounce in its step and a wilderness in its proud, golden eyes that would never be tamed. Nanaki would have loved to chase after that bird, knew it would be the kind to turn when cornered and fight for its survival, selling its life at the highest price. It was a shame to see it haltered.

_The wind in his mane. His paws moving so fast that they floated over the beaten turf. Before him, riding the wind, the smell of his prey, enticing, pushing him on and on and on._

_His limbs ached. Muscles protested, but he went on, feeling his prey weaken and tire. He roared, snarled, edging it into panic. It would not; black feathers were crested up in a proudly defying gesture, bobbing in the wind, the sunset painting them copper._

_He could feel victory on his tongue, smelt it in the air. His prey stopped, winded, realizing that even its amazing stamina and speed would not lose this predator when it had every other. It rounded on him, all anger and hostility. He saw those talons first, a flurry of movement like death itself._

_Blurs. Black, red, fur, feathers. Pain received, pain inflicted. Warks and growls ripped through the air, tributes to the battle. He felt himself weakening, but so did his prey. Blood rain thick in his throat and down his chops, the alluring taste driving him beyond his limits._

_Time did not matter. Nothing did, except dodging those talons and surviving. Rain ripped the sky. Pain ripped through his right eye. Anger ripped his control, ripped through his prey's last defenses. Fangs ripped open a throat. Ripped a life to shreds._

_The frenzy of battle cooled with the body beneath his paws. He felt again, first the pain and next the exhaustion. Raising his head to the new moon, he howled his victory, and blood dripped freely from his gouged eye to mix with the rainwater splattering his mane over the wound._

_He brought back feathers. He brought back injuries, a blind eye. He brought back his victory and his right to his species' guardian status. He had won over his prey, won the right to be a warrior, won his tattoos._

_He was finally whole._

Nanaki walked beside the chocobo as Cloud led it to the airship. It fretted, fluffing its feathers in nervous agitation, but it was a nicely tamed animal, and it did not panic because its master's hand still held the halter rope.

It had instincts, however, and Nanaki could see it in its eyes. They looked down at the predator, proud and challenging.

_I'll fight to the death,_ they said, and Nanaki paid respect to that. It was such a shame that humans could not see it, ignored the true quality of the beasts they were taming and riding shamelessly.

_Likewise_, his own good eye replied. Yes, he would have loved hunting that powerful bird. It would have been another tattoo branded in his fur, another feather in his mane. But who would be there to make it for him?

He was alone now.


	3. Words, to the Death

"_You're going to be a guardian."_

Nanaki looked up from the fascinating grasshopper he'd been valiantly stalking. The little insect sprang away at his sudden movement, and the young pup released a small growl of annoyance at seeing his hunt interrupted. Still, as he looked up to see his father sitting beside him, a giant figure of power and strength and an idol of what he aspired to be, Nanaki decided to forget the insect for this one time. Seto looked so serious as he spoke those words that he didn't understand, so proud, that Nanaki couldn't help but feel like he needed to copy that same attitude.

When next he walked on his small, wobbly legs, Nanaki held his head high and tried to copy his father's strut.

"_You're going to protect these people."_

Nanaki blinked sleepy eyes, cracking open sticky eyelids only to screw them shut again when the evening light hit his retinas. He felt his mother shift beside him, lie closer so that she was curled around him. Normally such a gesture would have annoyed him, as he liked to think himself too old for such cuddles, but this time he let her, allowing himself to enjoy the contact. She gently slid her front paws under his jaw and he snuggled closer against her neck as she started licking at his wild mane. She whispered those words again, the sentence that he was too sleepy to grasp, ushering it into his ears like a prayer.

He fell asleep to that, assimilating them to his very core.

"_You're going to die for the planet."_

The world was a blur of pain around him. Blood burned in his one good eye, blood dripped from his jaw, blood flowed from his injuries, from _everywhere. _His mother walked forward solemnly to take the black feathers that he held clenched possessively in his jaws, and as he grudgingly let go, his eyes would not leave the imposing figure of his father. His mind was scattered, wild from the test that had been set before him and from his costly victory, but he stared, unblinking, into those black pools that were Seto's eyes. And then, in his haze of pain and exhaustion, he thought he heard the Planet thank him even as it cried in endless suffering.

"_One day, you will forgive your father."_

The Gi tribe had attacked. They had fought, and now Nanaki stood beside his dying mother, a broken spirit crying over a broken body, wails of pain and grief drifting on the wind for the sacrifice of a whole race.

He rested his head under her neck then, as he hadn't done since he'd become a warrior. She purred deeply, licking his mane, and Nanaki knew that the warm liquid running down his neck was her own blood.

When he asked her why and how, she nipped his ear, told him that it wasn't important, only that he would, and with a last breath she returned to the embrace of what she had died protecting.

He howled to the moon that night, and there was no blood relative to share his grief.


	4. Always the Last

"Father, what's wrong?"

Nanaki looked down at his eldest, the little cub raising bleary, sleepy eyes at his giant of a father. Nanaki huffed once, discarding the question, and was glad to see that Seto knew better than to insist.

"Go wake up your sister," he whispered, his voice a deep throaty growl. Seto understood then that the matter was serious, as his father had used that voice he reserved to only the utmost solemn situations.

Nanaki watched his son go, moving closer to his mother where his little sister was curled up in sleep. He knew that his wife would feign to remain in slumber, as if he was ghosting their children away on a secret errand. But she knew where they were going. She would worry; that was to be expected, but she understood the importance he gave their journey.

As he saw Seto finally nudge his young sister Kaena awake, hearing her soft complaints, he vaguely wondered how this had all come about.

He'd found surviving members of his race. Those that did not know of Cosmo Canyon, that lived in the wild, but who respected and protected the planet nonetheless. He'd found his place there, his love, his family. His children, Seto and Kaena, both named in honor of those who had freely given their life for that which they loved. His haven, their haven.

But now they needed to see at which price that peace had been attained.

Kaena followed her brother and looked up at him with those shiny eyes, silent, solemn. She was the youngest, yet she had wisdom that Seto had not, a deeper understanding that seemed a betrayal to what should have been youthful innocence. She did not ask, sensing her father's mood and understanding the need for reverence. Nanaki was not surprised.

His heart swelled with pride at the sight of those two cubs. Seto might not be the wisest, but he had a fierceness in him that would serve him well, instincts. He loved them both, and considered them his gift from the planet for his help and undying devotion.

They ran a long time. Days, probably, but it didn't matter. The air was a rush in their ears and the earth a bare whisper under their flying paws. They ran behind him, always behind, as if they understood that this was maybe more for him than for them, and they never asked where they were going.

And then suddenly the tang of mako was in the air, soft and gentle, singing with the materia in his mane, making the orbs glow in soft reds and greens and purples.

Nanaki ran, climbed, long and powerful legs easily bringing him to his aim as he reached the peek of the mountainous cliff overshadowing the valley below. It smelled of greenery, nature. Not metal, not men. Those smells had been washed long ago when the last of humans had been chased from this hostile land, when he'd become the last member of his group to testify of what had happened.

His children soon joined him as he stood, head raised in the wind, letting it whip his aging, scarred face, letting it blow his bushy mane out of his eyes. Seto stood at his right, Kaena at his left, and they looked down at the wonder stretching before them.

Midgar's ugliness had been swallowed by everything that was beautiful in nature.

"Is that..?" Seto did not finish his sentence.

Nanaki took in a deep breath and released it in a cavernous, powerful roar that ripped the air.

Kaena was the first to join him, and Seto took only a moment before adding his voice to the cries in the glory of that which had conquered what had been said to be the one power on the planet. Nanaki was glad that they were here and understood what this broken city represented. Was glad for his species' longevity which had allowed him to show them.

But he was also crying his grief. In those ruins, buried by plants, were the tombstones of some of his old friends. All over the planet, their bodies rested, at peace in the soil that had meant so much for them. Nanaki cried for them, because he was the last who could. It was cruel, how he was always the last. Last of his race, until he learned he wasn't. Last of his group, last to go.

He did not stop until his throat was too soar to produce another such powerful sound. By then Seto and Kaena had stopped, watching him and the ruins alternatively, eyes filled with respect and solemnity. Nanaki looked down at them, his children, his future, and he smiled.

_I will be there_, he thought for the old Avalanche members, ignoring if they could hear him and not caring.

_Forgive me if I am a little long._

Nanaki called his children's names, bringing life back in his eyes, and raced them down the cliff and beyond.


	5. Facing your Judge

The stench of death was thick in the air. Nanaki could smell it even now, when all the corpses had been or were being discarded and carted away. It permeated the air, along with oil scents and the tang of heat. He watched as two automated machines rolled on their noisy caterpillar wheels, discarding the newest monster corpses with surprising speed considering the noise they produced while doing so.

Despite the apparent break, Nanaki knew better by now and did not expect being able to rest. While the machines were making their trip from one end of the arena to the other, pushing anything out of their way and into the consuming purple substance all around, the large luminous board spun and stopped, revealing Nanaki's next and final handicap. He reluctantly handed all of his remaining materia to the hurrying official.

By the time that was done, the gates were opening on his last opponent.

"_Red, why are you doing this?"_

"_Isn't the answer obvious? We are three here, so there is no reason that you should be alone to fight."_

The light of the bobbing lantern was the first thing that he saw. Usually he caught some sound first; a rattling breath, the screech of claws on stone, or saw glowing malevolent eyes focused on him. The wavering light alerted his instincts and senses of the danger ahead more than anything else before.

First he glimpsed the arm holding the lantern. Small and barely visible in the gloom, it was wrapped in coarse brown material, but Nanaki could still make out the tiny green fist protruding from the clothing, holding the flickering flame that sent shadows dancing on its smooth, featureless face. Two round black eyes looked at him.

The gaze was blank, devoid of any animosity, but Nanaki felt his muscles ripple in fearful anticipation and his fur stand on end when they stared right through him.

"_I'm the only one who wants the item. I should be the one working for it."_

"_It'll take too much time if we just sit back and wait. Let us help, taking turns and sharing points will make this go much faster."_

Nanaki had heard about those creatures before. Bugenhagen had detailed them to him once, showing some rare engravings of the fabled Tonberry. His grandfather had been very solemn about them, explaining that, according to old legends, their lantern burned only for the faulty and murderers. And to those who were revealed by that light, their knife would surely find the sinful heart and punish it.

But Bugenhagen had laughed then, saying that Tonberry remained monsters, albeit powerful and mysterious ones, and that they could be struck down. However, those legends held truth, and if a Tonberry's opponents let themselves be approached too closely, then that kitchen knife would be their demise.

_"I'm sorry…"_

"_Please don't be. Cid and I can very well accumulate the remaining points needed. Rest, and if it makes you feel so bad, we'll step back once you're fit again."_

Nanaki watched the small monster carefully, Bugenhagen's warnings ringing in his ears, and he launched forward, hoping that his speed and agility would allow him to stay out of range of that small, knife-wielding arm.

However, the Tonberry did little save move steadily forward, ignoring Nanaki's attacks even as they ripped at its skin.Its lantern arm never wavered, andits steady march forward never faltered.

Nanaki was tiring. He could see the damage he'd dealt, yet couldn't believe how little it affected the Tonberry. He was aware of his short reserves of energy, the handicaps having stripped him of many layers, leaving him weakened and frightfully vulnerable. He knew that if he didn't beat it soon, it would most likely beat _him._

_"Red! You awake?"_

"…_What happened?"_

Still, confident in his speed, Nanaki circled the ring slowly, sizing up his adversary. The Tonberry paused, waiting almost peacefully for the blows to fall. Nanaki waited until he was at its back before bolting forward, claws aimed for the neck.

A light hit his retinas mid jump. Nanaki realized that the lantern had been thrust straight in his face, the Tonberry having turned with surprising agility to face him. The flame glittered on the kitchen knife, and although Nanaki was aware of its position, he could do close to nothing to prevent it from reaching its obvious target. He closed his eyes, bracing himself, and in one last effort twisted his body against the momentum he'd gained.

"_The little bastard caught you square in the chest, then just fucking watched you drown in your blood for a bit before leaving. We all thought it'd damn killed you!"_

"_Apparently not."_

"_T'was fucking close enough! Without that last stunt you pulled, you would've been biting it by now."_

Pain erupted in his chest, flowing through his body like fire. Nanaki felt himself crumple to the ground, felt his fur grow damp from the blood. His vision was growing steadily blurry, his breathing frothy with blood, but even then he noticed that the Tonberry still hadits knife in hand, the blade clean and perfect as if it hadn't just stopped a charging animal four times its wielder's weight. And the monster hadn't even lost its grip…

Nanaki growled once before a black veil fell before his eyes. He would have struggled to his feet, refusing to give up, but he could no longer feel his body. There was only that knot of pain in his chest, like a black hole that ate all of his senses until Nanaki was no more.

"_I'm sorry, but I'm afraid I won't be in any shape to fight before long."_

"_Don't sweat it, it was just damn bad luck that you had to face that piece of shit. Besides, with what you and Cloud got so far, it'll take me a second to get those last points. So rest up!"_

"_Thank you."_


	6. Lightless

The forest was thick and lush around them. The ground was covered with branches and trunks and small thorny bushes that made walking quite the challenge. Thankfully for him, he had something of an advantage in the jungle, and could slip through the vegetation without a tuft of fur left on a wayward branch.

Nanaki crawled low under the drooping branches and vines, letting them brush lightly against his back as he passed, then turned to see how the rest of the party was doing. He'd been assigned as a guide, although he knew nothing of these lands, if only because he had less trouble finding paths and would be quick if trouble stirred.

First he saw Yuffie, who was small and agile and could be remotely quick even in the dense vegetation. Nanaki smiled to himself; hacking down everything in her path with her weapon helped, of course, and it ultimately helped the others.

Once he'd had the affirmative that he could go on safely, Nanaki turned and resumed his walk, treading over and under fallen trees and bushes, avoiding the many obstacles of a jungle, keeping his senses on high alert. That was another reason why he was scout; amongst the thick scents of the forest, he would be the only one capable of discerning any enemy smell.

Hopefully it wouldn't come from the rear.

It was while carefully stepping over a puddle of water that Nanaki realized night was falling. The canopy of trees had thinned just enough for him to see a tiny patch of sky reflected in the water. He looked up. The first stars could be seen in the darkening sky. It was time to set up camp.

Another reason why he was first: in the permanent gloom of the jungle, his tail was an easy beacon to follow.

In the Gongaga jungles, camp was a relative word. Nanaki found the biggest part of thin vegetationthat he could, yet there was barely enough space for one person to sit directly on the floor. They'd have to make due with trunks and roots and branches for those capable of climbing high enough.

By the time the whole group had gathered, a thin mist of cold rain was falling, soaking everything and everyone to the core. Nanaki found himself a spot under a fallen trunk where he was remotely sheltered, his one good eye shining in the dark. He despised how the water took no notice of his fur and settled in his bones.

"It's getting cold. We should start a fire," Tifa suggested, but she didn't sound as if she agreed to it herself. Looking at the living combustibles surrounding them, it was no surprise.

"We can't, it's too dangerous," Cloud confirmed. Yuffie complained loudly.

Silence fell, with the group trying to find positions comfortable enough to allow them some amount of restless sleep. Nanaki watched them, and thought that he was glad to be what he was, to be able to find comfort and shelter in the mud under a rotting trunk. Nonetheless, he curled his limbs tighter around himself to maintain as much heat as he could.

In the light of his tail's fire, he saw Yuffie pointing down at him with an accusatory expression.

"Hey! That's totally unfair! Don't go keeping that fire all to yourself!" she proclaimed, making her way so she was sitting atop the fallen trunk and bending over him. She thrust out her hands towards his tail.

Nanaki let her do it with an inward chuckle. She would be sadly disappointed.

"Uh? How come it's not hot?" she demanded, puzzled.

Nanaki twisted his neck so he could look up at her. "It's not regular fire. It doesn't burn," he explained succinctly. He was uneasy about going into the details and wished that she would accept that simple answer.

"That's logical, otherwise this whole jungle would have been ablaze by now," Aeris commented. Nanaki nodded to her; it was a question he'd thought would have come up earlier than now.

"That's so useless!" Yuffie threw her arms up in exasperation. Now Nanaki did smile, a wide, toothy animal grin.

"Would you rather go without its light?" he teased lightly, cocking his head to the side curiously.

Yuffie grumbled something in return and words were exchanged with the others, but he'd stopped paying attention. He looked at the shadows his flame threw on the leaves all around and knew that his sleep would not be peaceful.

"_Mommy, what happens if it goes out?"_

_His mother looked down at him very seriously and motioned for him to come closer. _

"_I'll tell you something important now, Nanaki, so listen carefully." He nodded energetically; he liked when his mother told him something important, it made him feel grown-up. _

"_We are the guardians of this canyon, the protectors of the knowledge. It's a very important task, to protect lives. When our species was first given that task, it is said that the gods would give us help, because it was so important and hard. So they gave us light."_

_Nanaki frowned. He didn't understand how light could be so useful._

"_That way, we would never lose our way and would always be able to chase away the creatures of darkness that would harm us and those we protect."_

"_Oh, I understand!" Nanaki was proud of himself, but he cowered a little when his mother snapped at him to be silent and listen, that the most important was to come. _

"_That light is a blessing, Nanaki, it can't be treated lightly." Her tone softened. "It's like your heart; it'll burn out only when your heart stops, and falter when it does. So you take good care, now."_

He'd nodded his understanding. It was only when he'd seen his mother die that he'd realized he hadn't understood at all.


	7. Acquaintances

Nanaki looked upon the nicely ordered buildings with their blue slatted roofs gleaming in the sunlight, and he was amazed that he had actually come back. The last time he'd walked away, he had believed that unless it was for some necessary errand with the rest of the group, he would not cross these gates again.

The greetings were as varied, though they ranged in a wider field of reactions than the first time. This time, some of the onlookers recognized him and were more than happy to come and greet him. Most of the younger folks, however, dodged his one-eyed gaze with fear and ran back to their mothers' skirts, the latter not so far behind in their panic.

Only the old and wise knew him now, those who had been present when Cloud's party had left its mark on the peaceful town of Kalm. How they had aged since, coming to him on canes and wobbly knees. He remembered them young and squealing as they tried to convince him to allow them to ride on his back.

"Red! What an honour to see you again!"

"Blast my eyes, but he's grown big!"

"Honey, come here now! Red is back!"

"Did you come with others, mister Red?"

Nanaki sat on his haunches, answering their questions patiently and smiling his own smile. He was surprised to be so happy to see these humans he barely knew, that he'd met so briefly that he could not recognize them even now.

Eventually they retreated, understanding that he was here with a goal in mind and hadn't all the time in the world. His name was on the lips of the people of Kalm that night, either from the elderly telling the story of their encounter to youngsters or said youngsters wondering at the beast that had helped save the world.

Really, it had all been a coincidence that had made him stop at Kalm. He'd been in the vicinity with no intention to stop, but with a struck of bad luck and a reminder from nature that its force was not to be underestimated, he'd lost most of his items. With a long trip yet ahead of him, he'd been faced with the necessity to restock.

And so he could be found in the item shop with a small group of people still curious and eager to speak to him. Though he held only good intentions towards these folks, he was starting to get tired of the attention.

"Are you mister Red?"

Nanaki had just stepped outside, a bag of items clutched in his jaw to be stored later in more practical spaces, in his case. In front of him stood a young girl with wide brown eyes and an unruly mop of hair. She was looking at him with not a hint of fear, but much curiosity.

"Yes, I am," he answered cautiously. No matter the esteem he had won here, he understood a mother's almost indestructible worry in the face of something lethal. He did not want to cross her, wherever she might be. The child looked to be alone.

"Thank you!" With those sudden and puzzling words, the little girl launched forward to attach her small arms around his neck in an unmistakable hug. Nanaki could only blink in surprise and confusion.

"For what, child?" he prompted. He could feel her gripping hard; a good thing that she was too small to do much more than ruffle is fur.

Finally she let go, and looked at him with a shy smile. "Well, my Grandma said I had to thank mister Red. She tried to explain about the Planet and some stream and big meanies, but I didn't get it, but it looked important, so thank you mister Red!" she piped up, turned on her heels, and ran away with a giggle.

Nanaki watched her go, nonplussed, before breaking into a melancholic smile. That night, instead of camping in the wild like he had intended to, he stayed at the inn and found enjoyment as the elderly owner questioned him and they chatted amiably throughout most of the night.


	8. Metaphors

The heat was oppressing, pushing over them as if heavy weights had suddenly been placed upon their backs. The reactor's roof sizzled and the air shimmered visibly before their eyes, thick and unforgiving. Although Nanaki was used to the heat of Cosmo Canyon, this type was something else entirely, and his fur had now become the bane of his existence. If it weren't for the birth of the condor and his desire to see this metaphoric victory over all that Shinra was destroying, he would never have stepped out in the scorching sun and the air still thick with Mako.

The condor chick was chirping its first notes, fluffing feathers still thick with the egg's yolk and oblivious of the dead parent that had been watching over it for so long. To be born on a reactor, crowning it like a king, was truly one of the best messages of hope one could give to the oppressed and the Planet. Nanaki was immensely grateful to have witnessed such a miracle, to have protected it until it came to pass.

In his momentary amazement, Nanaki had almost forgotten the heat, but a stiffling breeze that proved no relief from the temperature served as a very efficient reminder. He was already turning around to retreat to the relative warmth of Fort Condor's bowels when something just outside the egg's broken shell caught his eye.

They'd seen only a few of those and possessed just as less, and any given time that someone who was knowledgeable enough to recognize them had seen the particular items, it had always caused awe and amazement. They represented power, both for the items and for those who wielded them, as only strong fighters could use them to their full potential.

And though he respected the chick's peace and wished not to disturb it, he would not let a summon materia stay where someone less scrupulous could find it and use it for harmful purposes.

The others had noticed it as well by then, but Nanaki was still the first to reach the egg and retreat the materia. It was warm, and he had no illusions that it might be because of the heat. Summon materia always seemed to radiate an inner heat, as if in tribute to their strength.

Behind him, the others asked questions or wondered at the materia's admittedly odd location, but Nanaki did not take part in the discussion. The first thing he wished, now that the materia was safe in his jaw, was to get out of this cursed heat. The rest of the group soon followed, both because of the temperature and from curiosity. It was always the same, when they found new a summon materia.

"Can you tell what summon it is?" Tifa asked curiously once they were back inside, sitting in the makeshift resting area for privacy. The people of Fort Condor were still thanking them generously, and it wouldn't be a wise idea to wave a summon materia under so many noses.

Nanaki shook his head. Normally, for every other materia, it was possible to know instinctively what magic it possessed, as if the holder automatically acquired the condensed knowledge it held. However, for summon materia, it worked differently, as if the entities were too complex to be felt subconsciously. The only way to know was to summon them a first time.

"I will summon it during our next battle," Nanaki finally answered. With one easy and practiced movement, the materia disappeared in his mane and into his feathered clip. It had surprised a few at first, when they'd seen that he was able to handle his own materia despite his lack of opposable thumbs. It all came down to adaptation, really, and using one's brain.

Outside Fort Condor and in a much more appreciable temperature, the group separated in the usual teams, though they did not stray too far. They knew that a new summon would be called forth soon, and were all eager to know what it was.

The monsters did not disappoint them, surging forward as soon as they'd left Fort Condor a respectable distance behind. And as soon as he was able, Nanaki reached into the new yet already familiar materia in his mane, summoning whatever beast laid dormant, awaiting its call, to come and fight with them.

It came, and Nanaki had to squint as everything around him suddenly seemed to glow. Bright red dots danced before his eyes, sparkles of all shades that could put a rainbow to shame, fading just before they touched the ground. His eyes adapted to the sudden brightness, and he looked up just as a lulling, comforting song filled the air, reaching into his very heart and sweeping all of his worries away, leaving only a feeling of peaceful contentment.

The bird was a breathtaking view. Wide wings spread wide, it floated down to them and everything froze as if time itself had stopped. Its golden eyes were focused on the monsters even as it sang reassurance to its allies and had the sky around it rain glowing stars. Nanaki couldn't move, only look up at it, and some part of his mind that was not just content to _be_ reflected that its shape and majesty were celebrating the egg and the chick that had given it life.

Its wings dipped slightly and it dove forwards, breaking the spell that had overcome them all, so that time suddenly sped by him and sounds roared in his ears as everything was alight with unforgiving flames. Nanaki crouched down, closing his eyes and turning his face away as the heat washed over him in one great crashing wave that would sweep him away if he didn't hold on. For a moment he could only hear the roar of the flames, but suddenly everything was silenced and he was deaf.

Somehow, he did not dare open his eyes. The summon's mournful song was still in his heart, comforting him, and he felt thin, warm tendrils of magic ghost over his flesh tenderly, soothing out aches and pains and urging his eyes open again when they disappeared, whisked away by a stray breeze that he had not felt before.

Nanaki opened his eyes upon the charred remains of the monsters and the deep scorch marks in the blasted ground. That the summon was of the fire element was clear, and that automatically brought it closer to his heart, as he revelled in the element, but there was something more, something that called to him and created a strong attachment that would not let him hand the materia to anyone else.

And then he recognized what the tendrils had felt like. They were magic, life magic, that could not find a grasp on a target too healthy. The summon attacked, but it also revived, and it was the latter that appealed the most to him. Life was the Planet, rebirth its most generous gift.

The Phoenix. It might not be the most powerful summon, but Nanaki considered it the most magnificent of all.


	9. Mind and Body

_Nanaki looked at the flower, nose twitching in cautious curiosity. Carefully, eyes screwed in almost comical concentration, he sniffed the delicate white petals. They ruffled under his breath, and a little puff of pollen settled on his whiskers. Nanaki ignored it. He was more interested in the scent of the flower, gentle and sweet and tantalizing. Now quite certain that it was not poisonous, as he felt no ill, he sniffed it more generously, enjoying its heady aroma as it made him lightheaded._

He was burning. It was a heat that came from within, that sent him in convulsive shivers that would not let him rest. Pain was running in his veins instead of blood, and his heart beat frantically, as if trying to pump it all out of his body. Nanaki felt something hot and _wrong_ slither wet on his tongue.

_Fascinated by the little white flower, Nanaki settled comfortably before it, lying gracefully on his stomach. Gently, afraid that he might break it, he edged his nose closer, snuffling at the leaves that smelled just as good, if more bitterly. On a sudden impulse he did not quite comprehend, he bit into the tender green leaf. His mouth filled with a bittersweet taste, and Nanaki found it quite good. _

He was dimly aware, in between raving nightmares and painful convulsions, that his muscles were cramping, his spine arching so far back he might break it. His claws were shot, paws trembling at the end of limbs tensed tighter than a bowstring. He was breathing with difficulty, and even now he was aware enough to know that the gurgle emitting from his throat was a very bad sign.

_He found himself eating a few leaves, so absorbed into the addicting taste and smell that he only realized a bit late that he was feeling odd in the stomach and dizzy in the head. He drew back slowly, reluctant even then, unable to feel alarmed that he might have eaten poison after all. Despite those uncomfortable feelings, he still felt incredibly content, floating in a bubble of peace. Wobbly on his young legs, he decided to lie down in a nearby patch of sun; it could only do him good._

Above the sound of the blood rushing in his ears, Nanaki thought he heard voices talking close. Hands were suddenly in his fur, feeling like white hot coals burning his flesh, gripping hard against the muscles that tightened hard enough to break joints and bones. He would've fought them, for they pained him, but he was caught in the haze of pain. His breath was near impossible now, and he chocked, trying to clear his throat of the slime blocking it.

_He found himself falling asleep in a most uncomfortable manner, his blood beating painfully against his temples and his stomach growling furiously, but he would not have been able to remain awake even if he'd tried. His sleep was troubled, with dreams that were at first peaceful, but always they turned strange and unsettling. He thought he might have grasped some profound knowledge from some, imagined whispers at the edge of his mind ushering secrets to him, but he could not hold on to any one of them. _

The wave of cold that washed over his body was a miracle to his fevered mind. The burning was smothered, and with it gone, his limbs slowly relaxed, aching yet unharmed. The hands that had been on him relaxed, stroked his head once, and soothing words were spoken into his ear as he spit the last of the slimy substance that had come near to choking him. He breathed a heavy sigh, profound weariness carved down to his bones.

_Nanaki woke to a thick tongue and an uneasy stomach, with his head still beating uncomfortably. It was no longer daytime, with the sky overhead now draped in dark blue sprinkled with the pinprick shine of the stars, and something warm and comforting was curled around him. Nanaki recognized the scent of his mother. _

_"Welcome back," she spoke softly, giving his rumpled fur a few gentle licks._

_"What happened?"_

_"I know but half of the story, but you have undergone a dangerous experience. Had you eaten a little more, your mind would have been lost."_

_"Really? I—I'm sorry. You know what that flower is?"_

_"Hush, not now. Come with me, there is a clear stream nearby. It will clear your head."_

_Nanaki followed, mind still swirling with the remains of his dreams and strange thoughts. It was only later that he learned of the plant his tribe called catmint, the one that compelled the spirit to the skies and beyond. _

It was with a heavy groan that Nanaki forced himself to remain conscious. His mind was becoming clear again, and his eyes finally saw the people assembled around him with various expressions of relief and lingering worry. Aerith sat close by, tending to an angry gash in his flank. She looked at him with a wide, warm smile.

"Welcome back."

Nanaki raised his head, and the gesture was more painful than he'd anticipated. His muscles would be aching for a long time.

"Thank you," he said simply. No doubt it was she who had purged the poison from his veins, as she was the most skilled with healing materia. The monster had caught him unawares, striking him with its poison-tipped tail faster than he could blink.

"No need for that," she said, and a dim green glow spread from her hands to envelop his side. The injury slowly became a tender scar. "Here, I bet you're thirsty; Cloud found a spring nearby to refill our water bottles."

Smiling despite himself, Nanaki thanked Cloud and Aerith warmly and clutched the neck of the water bottle between his teeth, tilting his head back so that the liquid ran cool and soothing down his throat. Some things never changed.


	10. Kin

There was no snow in Cosmo Canyon. Barely any rain either, in fact, but snow was literally a thing of books and pictures. Nanaki knew of its existence, but he could not quite contain his surprise when he first set a paw in the powdery, cold blanket of the northern continent.

It was cold, as predicted, but his fur was enough to prevent it from being uncomfortably so. Standing in the plain with a whistling wind in his mane and the village at his back, Nanaki studied the large expense of unbroken whiteness. It was not unlike Cosmo Canyon, with it's red and orange lands, but even then there had been subtle differences between a place and another, enough to stop the eye. Here, in the snow, there was nothing. It was dizzying.

The wind was powerful. A brief look behind him proved that his footsteps had already been washed away. There was no trace of his passage, nothing to lead him back. Nonetheless, Nanaki slowly moved forward. The sheer sense of pure and hostile wilderness compelled him. He was no fool; he would not go so far that the wind could no carry the village's smell to him. But he was not scared of seeing even his bright red coat disappear amongst the white.

As he walked, head hunched to protect his eyes and nose against the strong bursts of wind, he realized for the first time that he was alone. Before, there had always been someone close to him, either wanted or unwanted. He'd found moments of loneliness in his younger days in Cosmo Canyon, had felt painfully lonely after the Gi's raid, but this was something else entirely. He'd left the village and the others behind since they had not the sufficient resistance to follow. He was alone, and he appreciated the feeling. He was peaceful.

The plain did not smell of much. Like its uniform color, its odor was even, unchanging save when the wind brought the scent of a human settlement. Somehow, it soothed his mind. It had been far too long since he'd been away from cities, Shinra and mako.

The village was out of view now, and Nanaki hesitated in going farther. He could still catch dredges of the village's smell, but no doubt even that would be beyond his reach if he moved farther away. Also, he would have monsters to reckon with soon, although he was surprised not to have encountered any yet. Northern monsters were bold and could attack even within view of the village.

Just then, as if responding to his thoughts, a sweet, strange smell drifted on the wind and caught his attention. It was a cold smell, beastly yet oddly gentle. Nanaki scanned the horizon, squinting his eyes against the sun's reflection on the snow, until he made out a small, blue figure standing to his left. It came closer, moving in graceful movements until Nanaki could make out its full shape.

It was a woman, though clearly no human. Her skin was a deep blue and her long hair swayed in the wind, leaving her slim body open to the harsh elements. She did not seem the worse for wear, hands limp at her side as she studied him.

Nanaki did not move, studying her in turn. She was quite obviously a monster; her smell made it very clear. Yet she had nothing of the aggressiveness of a would-be attacker. She just smelled…curious. Curious and wary. No matter the wind ruffling his fur, he had spent too long with humans for the scent to wash out so quickly.

The would-be woman finally raised a hand, beckoning him closer. Nanaki complied, feeling, knowing that no harm would come to him from this creature. Somehow, she had accepted him as one of _them_, as harmless. How long had it been since he had been able to relate to monsters on such a level? How long had it been since he had been able to be amongst them as a neutral agent, meaning no harm as long as none was meant against him or his kin? He'd forgotten. Forgotten that while his intelligence could be said to be human, he was still fundamentally a beast, thus related to monsters in a way.

The she-monster stretched her hand close to his head when he stopped before her. Her face was completely devoid of any emotion. Her smell was just as piercing and gentle, but there was an underlying hint of something he knew could be quite nasty if exploited. Yet the only thing she directed towards him was curiosity and maybe something like friendliness.

Nanaki nodded. The she-monster let her hand hover over his head, never touching. A part of his mind realized just what risk he was taking by allowing a monster within his guard like this, but he could not act upon it. He trusted this monster's, if not good, then neutral intentions.

Thoughts touched his own. Basic thoughts, crude like her limited intelligence, yet he could easily make out the message. _What, who? – Smell, human, danger? – Nice._

Her hand radiated cold as much as humans did warmth. Nanaki did not think it a bother. He looked up into her expressionless face, trying to convey his own message as simply as possible. _Nice. – Beast, kin. _He thought that maybe she understood. He knew that this telepathy was no doubt a weapon for her, that she could turn it against him very easily. He couldn't quite care.

This was not a moment for violence and hatred. Rather, it was a rare moment of understanding, of peace, between races that had nearly lost the ability to communicate.


	11. You Shall Pay

"That thing," the woman growled, baring her teeth just like the animal she was spearing with an accusing finger, "is not stepping inside my establishment."

Nanaki sat on his hunches, leveling a blank gaze on the small restaurant's owner. He curled his tail gracefully around his paws, trying to appear as tame and harmless as possible. He had been faced with this kind of situation countless times before.

"Nanaki won't hurt a fly," Aerith put in gently, trying to sound soothing and reasonable. They had all faced this situation countless times before.

The woman crossed her thin wiry arms under her bosom, chin tilted upwards obstinately. "I'm not putting my customers in any danger," she stated flatly.

Cloud sighed imperceptibly, moving his arm over his shoulder to readjust the leather straps holding his sword to his back. The restaurant's owner caught the movement and narrowed her eyes at the large weapon, but she dismissed it quickly in favor of glaring at Nanaki. It seemed to her that he was more dangerous than a group of warriors with mostly large and ostentatious weapons and bracers packed full with materia that glowed in the neon lights. Those could almost be considered customary.

"I assure you, they will not be in any danger," Nanaki pointed out, staring her in the eye.

The woman started in surprise, eyes wide and unbelieving. Nanaki was used to that as well.

"It can talk?" she finally said, voice hoarse.

"Yes, and I can think on a level with humans," Nanaki nodded, keeping a polite tone despite the annoyance slowly trickling to the surface. Being used to this never lessened the irk. "We've traveled a long way and are tired. Kindly let us in," he continued with more authority.

The woman, however, did not seem altogether convinced. She ignored the others as Barret and Cid both swore loud and clear with Yuffie whining and cursing in the background of their booming voices. Rather, she concentrated her attention on the silent ones, Cloud and Vincent, with all the instinct of a person used to working around dangerous characters of doubtful honesty.

"And if I don't?" she challenged, recollecting her wits enough not to let Nanaki's sudden show of intelligence upset her any more than it had already done.

"We won't do anything if you still refuse," Cloud said evenly, shrugging one shoulder wearily. It _had_ been a long journey.

Following a sort of unspoken pattern they had adopted in this kind of situation, Nanaki watched passively as Tifa stepped forward, leaning closer to the owner conspiratorially. She whispered a few words in her ear –they all knew what it was- and pressed something in the owner's hands. With the 7th Heaven bar, Tifa was used to working around gil and knew how it could so easily sway another's mind. Nanaki smelled the restaurant owner's scent change from wary and obstinate to wary and delighted in a matter of seconds, and if he had thought it could help their situation, he would have copied Tifa's disgusted scowl when the owner turned around and reluctantly admitted them inside.

"You keep it under close watch," she hissed as Nanaki passed through the doorway, and he felt the fur along his back start to bristle despite himself. No matter how many times he heard it, faced it, this sort of association with a mindless, bloodthirsty beast was always very frustrating. He missed Cosmo Canyon just for that.


	12. The Things We Do

Nanaki looked upwards. His tail twitched despite his best efforts to keep it still, beating against the dusty road.

They had _got_ to be kidding him.

Yuffie was practically a monkey. He was sure she would be able to accomplish this in no time flat. But of course, then she'd ask_ money_ in return.

Tifa wouldn't have any problems either, but then there was the issue of her skirt. Frankly, all present had caught a glimpse of what hid underneath considering the number of times she'd jumped around in battle. But he liked life enough not to point it out.

That left Cloud and Vincent. But since Cloud was Cloud and Vincent was Vincent, it was not to them the plea was heart-brokenly addressed, but to him. Which made no sense whatsoever, seeing that he was not even _human. _

As it was, everyone was watching him with more-or-less concealed smiles as soulful eyes brimming with tears looked pleadingly up at him. Resisting such a plea was a hard enough task in itself, but now it was made about impossible by the crowd that had assembled to watch with amusement.

With a deep sigh, Nanaki gathered back on his hind legs, hunching his shoulders and concentrating on his destination. It was high enough that he couldn't take it lightly, no matter his abilities. He blocked out the people around him from his mind, focused only on that_ point_, and jumped.

The branch shook and creaked menacingly under his paws, but held. Nanaki waited a beat to adjust his balance to the swinging branch, then reached forward to the trembling ball of kitten, grabbing it by the scruff of the neck and being infinitively happy it was young enough not to resist.

Below him, he heard the loud cheers of the little girl as she bounced up and down in excitement while he pounced back to the ground and placed the kitten in her arms.

Really. The _things_ he was made to do. Still, carrying the kitten had reminded him of his mother, and he allowed the little girl to scratch his head.


	13. Revival of the Lost

The first sign he ever encountered of _them_ he did not trust. It was unfamiliar and raised his hackles.

---

"You sure this is the place?" Cid asked as he surveyed the surroundings, critical but curious about this untouched island with its tall grass and few, bell-shaped trees.

Nanaki bared his fangs in a grin. "No, but it's my best guess."

A bark of a laugh. "Hey, so long as we find something to pay for your ride, 'cause Highwing Airship Taxi Services ain't cheap," Cid joked good-naturedly with a lopsided smirk of his own. "Lead the way."

"You won't be disappointed." Nanaki started forward with his nose to the ground, knowing what he was looking for and knowing it was worth Cid's time, as did the pilot himself.

"I still can't believe Shinra didn't lay hands on this place," Cid commented with faint disbelief.

"I guess they just didn't bother looking."

"Hard to believe, when they were searching for mako so hard!"

"Maybe that's it. They were so focused on only one thing, they missed everything else that might be of interest. Also, this island isn't exactly bursting with precious metals or anything like it."

"Might be. Then how did your grandpa find anything about it anyways?"

Nanaki smiled against the dusty ground, his whiskers heavy with sadness and nostalgia for what has been lost. "Grandpa knew a lot of things, and knew where to look."

Cid made a dubious nose, but didn't pursue the subject. Nanaki was grateful for it.

A few moments more passed in silence before a thin, musky smell of _animal_ wafted up from a nearly-faded trail he'd crossed. Nanaki paused, breathing deeper and concentrating on the new scent. It clearly wasn't what he was looking for –he was hunting for a plant, not an animal-- but it was something that sparked a glimmer of familiarity he couldn't quite name. He heard Cid's boots scuff to a halt behind him.

"Found something already?"

The scent was irritatingly elusive in its familiarity. Nanaki felt a growl crawl up his throat. "No, but let's be careful."

"If there are monsters around here, I'm doubling my fees," Cid grated behind him, but Nanaki heard the sudden touch of wariness and anticipation coupled with excitement behind the pilot's voice. He moved on.

---

The second sign he found of them made him doubly wary, but in no good way.

---

Cid had burned through five more cigarettes –Nanaki could smell them being consumed steadily as the pilot's attention mulled around boredom, the vegetation having revealed nothing more than a few startled hares in the last two hours-- before he stumbled on anything interesting. Once again a smell lead him, but this time it was something he recognized very well and was neither entirely surprised nor happy to find. It was pungent and sickly sweat and old. From his vantage point well over the bristly tall grass, Cid saw it before him and swore colourfully.

"Fuck, there _is_ something big and fang-y besides you on this dumb island!"

Nanaki walked just a few paces before breaking into a small ring of trampled grass. In the middle of it, an old carcass of some avian-looking animal was stripped down to its sun-bleached bones, with only a few dried up pieces of meat remaining. He scrunched his nose against the smell even as he moved forward to study it more carefully. Cid circled to its other side, looking vaguely disgusted.

"It didn't die a natural death," the pilot eventually noted, pointing to the ribcage. The bones had deep gouges the length of them.

"Obviously not," Nanaki nodded, and after a moment he realized one of the lingering scents was that first one he'd noticed, the strange beast smell he could not name but that wanted so badly to be recognized. He felt his ears draw back against his skull despite himself. "And whatever killed it must be large and many."

Cid rested his spear in a more convenient way and started a sixth cigarette. "Triple. I really hope we find those plants of yours," he grated, but his grin was wide.

Nanaki tried copying the pilot's excitement for a good fight, but he couldn't get rid of the impression that they'd fallen in the worst kind of territory where _they_ were being hunted.

---

The third sign he found of them opened an abyss of hope and pain and illusions he dared not jump into.

---

Some more searching around the area found no more traces of what could have killed the animal. The ground was too hard to leave tracks and the kill too old to keep too clear a smell, so they left the carcass more wary yet and suspicious of every shift in the tall grass.

The day moved on into afternoon with nothing more remarkable happening aside from stumbling on a small, clear pond. Cid declared a break; the man was getting irritable since he'd finished his pack of cigarettes but had forgotten to bring another one. Nanaki smiled to himself as he circled the pond to find a good drinking spot.

And suddenly, there in the humid ground, were a few paw prints that belonged to no small animal.

Nanaki froze with one paw still in the air and stared. Neatly preserved by the soft ground were three large, four-toed prints Nanaki recognized all too well but feared to acknowledge. His heart had lodged itself firmly in the back of his throat, so that it made it hard for him to smell anything around the paw prints. Nanaki swallowed painfully and inhaled deeply, and that familiar, tantalizing smell still lingered around the tracks, faint but painfully present. Nanaki stared at them for a long time, not knowing what to think, what to _feel_, until finally he tore his gaze away from the paw prints and moved back towards Cid, mind caught in a heavy fog of conflicting emotions that tumbled painfully against his skull.

The pilot watched him approach with scrunched eyebrows, munching around a blade of grass. "You look like you saw a ghost."

Nanaki sat down heavily and shook his head. "I think I did."

Obviously, Cid hadn't been expecting that answer, and he stared at his animal companion like he'd grown a couple few more heads. "The hell you talkin' about?"

Nanaki debated for a few long seconds whether he could tell Cid, whether he was _able_ to. He raised a paw, stared at the shallow four-toed print it had left there, and felt his heart expend very painfully as he tried not to give in to helpless, desperate hope.

"Red?" Cid prompted after a while, voice gruff with worry.

"I—I think I know what the predators are," he finally said, diving headfirst in that agonizing hope he couldn't refuse. Not after the signs he had seen.

Cid was staring hard at him, and the crinkled knot between his eyes was not loosening. "Yeah? And what would that be?"

"My kin."

---

The fourth and last sign he found of them broke his heart only to mend it again, piece by piece.

---

They'd found the plant just before evening darkened the sky, an enormous patch of the leathery leaves that were the key ingredient to a remedy. They whispered and danced in the wind, and the quantity of them was easily worth thousands of gil, not to speak of even more precious remedies. After collecting a small quantity that barely dented the patch, they moved on, but did not turn back for the airship.

Nanaki had a more important thing to find, now, and Cid had grasped enough of its meaning to want to stay and help.

It wasn't that late after the sun had completely disappeared that the predators in question finally manifested themselves. As Nanaki had suspected might happen, Cid and he had been found, maybe even followed throughout the day, and now that their quarry seemed to be aware of their presence, they were making themselves known. Howls more evocative than words sprung up all around them, and Nanaki found himself crouching, muscles taut and tail lashing, as he felt the need to respond to those cries he hadn't heard in years but could still understand.

Beside him, Cid was understandably holding Venus Gospel in position, legs widespread and solid yet reading to spring in motion at a moment's notice. He far from looked as confident in the origins of the sounds as his four-legged companion. He hissed a question that had the sounds of a warning, but Nanaki didn't listen. He was too intent on the calls that echoed back and forth to bother with human language for the moment.

Slowly, the howls died down, and Nanaki saw a first bob of firelight coming closer. He narrowed his eyes, unwilling to completely destroy his night vision, and waited in barely restrained anxiousness as the owner of the light revealed itself to him.

At first Nanaki thought he was hallucinating, that he was wrong after all, and that something was playing with his mind and showing him his father. But after the first few moments of frozen astonishment he realized that his father, despite being imposing, hadn't been quite as tall and thick of mane, but larger in the neck and shoulders.

The individual before him revealed himself in full light, his heavy, scarred muzzle and dark golden eyes unlike Seto's in every way, but yet so familiar. Nanaki looked down his mane and flank, recognized the marks of rank, and knew this was the pack leader. Slowly, feeling his mind go blank but for his old instincts, he bowed his head and tilted it to the side, exposing his throat.

The leader moved forward slowly, extended his head and took a careful sniff before sitting back. Only then did Nanaki straighten his head, and the rest of the pack took it as their cue to show themselves, sitting or standing in a circle around them, all of their tail-fires casting the scene in flickering shadows. Cid cursed under his breath, but he mapped his behavior on Nanaki and wisely lowered his spear.

"You are smelling too strongly of human, warrior. What have you been named?" the leader finally spoke. His voice was a deep grumble and his speech clipped and old.

Nanaki sat and regained his dignity as his mind kicked itself back to life, realizing this was not a dream. That it was _real_. He was a guardian –which the leader had thankfully acknowledged--, and had earned his feathers and tattoos at a great price. The tilt of his head showed respect to the imposing male before him, but would not be cowed.

"I am Nanaki, son of Seto, guardian of Cosmo Canyon," he answered slowly, but his pronouncement produced no reaction from the leader. His eyes flicked to the feathers in Nanaki's mane, to his tattoos, hovered over Hojo's ugly brand, before returning to hold his eye with his own.

"Cosmo Canyon. It is a name I have not been hearing in long cycles. You are the son of the sons that left the island when the sea had not yet isolated it. Why are you being with a human that hides your scent, and not your own kin?"

Cid fidgeted uncomfortably behind him, but the pilot held his peace. Nanaki considered his next few words carefully; although the leader didn't seem hostile to Cid's presence, he didn't look entirely trusting of humans, either.

"He helped fly me here, over the ocean, on a quest for rare plants. I'm alone because I'm the last of our kind in Cosmo Canyon."

That answer caused a few whispers of surprise and grief through the small assembly, but the leader merely looked on, unfazed, though he inclined his head in respect for the departed.

"It is with grief that we are hearing this news, but the ancestors of your ancestors chose their way freely."

The leader's eyes once again rested on Nanaki's specimen tattoo, on the materia in his mane, and even on Cid. He nodded his massive head once.

"Our lost brother has found his way," the leader declared, looking at the other assembled, solemn. "Welcome him, and be cheering for this good fortune." Returning his attention on Nanaki, the leader smiled, slowly and with reserve, but it was genuine. "I am Ikkaku, son of Sai. Your body is bearing the marks of stories I am wishing to hear, Nanaki son of Seto. Come, and we will be talking."

At those words, something tight suddenly unravelled in Nanaki's chest and he was sure that if he had not been sitting, his legs would have buckled under his weight. He realized that Ikkaku and all the others, they were his _kin_, his family, his own kind, and that what he had felt was the heavy, stifling weight of extinction, of being the last, lift from his heart. He felt light headed and happy, but slightly sick as well, because all those years, _he hadn't been alone. _He just hadn't known where to look.

Slowly, still wary of Ikkaku and his pack, Cid moved forward and squatted beside Nanaki. His face was deeply set in an inscrutable grouchy frown, but his voice was light when he spoke.

"Hey, keep breathing."

And Nanaki did, deeply, and filled himself with the scents of his kin, healthy and _alive._


	14. Fools

Nanaki saw it once, not long before Meteor and Shinra's public fall to disgrace. Cloud was down at the Gold Saucer running his chocobos because of that small island they'd flown over a few days earlier, the one enclosed with mountains and almost hidden in a thick self-contained jungle. The mouth of the cave had glowed faintly even then, shone with the rippling waves of light reflecting on materia. Nanaki didn't like staying around the birds for long, and it unsettled them, so he'd taken the opportunity to wrangle Cid into flying him north over the Nibel mountains, just to explore. He'd missed roaming the land alone and unbothered, especially where Shinra had not settled permanently.

The region was not lush and hospitable; only perfectly flat and dry rocky lands with bone-chilling winds blowing permanently. Night was falling fast, and though it posed him no problem, he'd rather not rest out in such open, barren land. It left him feeling exposed and threatened. He'd caught a whiff of habitation not long before, and he was trying to follow it despite the confusing winds.

Night had truly fallen by the time he picked out the faint, flickering spots of light from a few windows, but even at this distance he could tell it was a broken husk of a village probably almost abandoned. The shadows of the roofs were crooked and jagged, and there were more dark, forlorn buildings than lit ones. He knew his estimate had been right the moment he first stepped on the broken cobblestones of one of the few streets. He was surprised anyone still lived here at all.

He had no intention of finding them. For him to sneak up on any human in the dark was asking for trouble, so instead he entered the first dilapidated building he crossed and sniffed out a dark corner where he could rest in peace. The room was heavy with the stench of rusting metal, dust and a mingle of rotting smells he didn't try to identify too closely. Soft pads silent, Nanaki let his black and white night vision find him a convenient shadow under some staircases.

He had not expected it to be occupied.

The man smelled just like the room, with a heavier stink of time and death. He was curled up in the corner, wrapped in scraps of dirty clothing, his bare feet sickeningly pale from the cold. Nanaki first thought he might be asleep, but then the man –he was old, with features almost lost in a sea of wrinkles—raised his head and fixed filmy, white eyes on him.

"Who are you?"

Nanaki didn't move, pondering. It was ironic that the man was blind, that he could not see what was before him and thus could not be alarmed that he looked like a monster. Actually, the old man didn't look like he cared about him being there at all.

"I'm sorry I disturbed you," Nanaki finally answered. "I was only looking for somewhere to sleep out of the elements." Normally a protruding rock in the wild would have suited him fine. But there hadn't even been that.

The old man shrugged and shuffled a bit. Making place for him under the staircase. "No harm done. What brings you to this place?"

Slowly, Nanaki moved to sit beside the man, careful not to let him touch his fur. "I found the village by accident while traveling."

"You sound foreign," the old man pondered, leaning his bald head back against the wall. "You ain't from here, aren't you." It wasn't a question, and it was clear he meant the whole northern part of the continent.

"I come from farther south. I didn't know there was a village here."

The old man snorted loudly and grinned. "Nobody does. Not anymore."

Nanaki cocked his head to the side. The man's smell was not so hard to block out that it made him uncomfortable, even from this close. "What happened?" He was sure the man was blind, yet those white, lifeless eyes swivelled to the side and looked right at him.

"You awfully curious."

Nanaki shrugged. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to pry."

There was a moment of silence, but those eyes never wavered. Finally the old man looked down with a quiet chuckle that rasped in his throat. "You feel right. The story's not too long, anyways." The old man took a rattling breath, pushed his hands under his armpits for warmth, and looked forward at nothing in particular. "Used to be Shinra here before. Reactor's still there, even. Functional and all, and us folks had it easy enough cause of it, despite being such a small, lost village in the middle of nowhere. Bowed our necks all proper to the right officials." He snickered. "I say, because we bowed our heads so much, we finally started seeing what was happening at our feet. Land started turning barren and crops failed."

Nanaki had heard that kind of story before. It was inevitable, no matter where you were, so long as there was a reactor pumping enough of the Lifestream away from the planet. Nanaki rested his head on his paws, sighed quietly. He could not even muster anger anymore.

"Where's Shinra now? The village looks abandoned."

The old man snorted again, a sound like paper ripping. "At the reactor. Still works."

Nanaki raised his head in surprise. "But, the village?" Those lights he'd seen were fire, not electricity. How could this have happened if the reactor was still functional?

The man shrugged as if he'd had this conversation often before. "We stopped using mako energy, they stopped caring about the village and let it rot. We say good riddance."

He couldn't help but stare at this old, rugged beggar, and the only thing he could think of saying was: "Why?"

"Used to be a farming village. Life was hard, but we managed and were happy. With Shinra and the land dying we couldn't farm no more. Had to depend on those bloodsuckers more and more." The man shook his head. "We decided we preferred to stop using their energy and paying their taxes so we could be responsible for ourselves again. Have only ourselves to thank for eating every day." The old man held up a corner of his rags. "I'm a beggar, but those who decided to stay manage to scrounge a living even without Shinra. We can be proud of what we have now."

Nanaki shook his head, bewildered, but understanding the man's feelings and admiring this village's resolve. "But your village is in ruins, the land is still barren. Wouldn't it have been better to sacrifice pride after all? You only hurt yourself, not Shinra, since the reactor is still functioning and bringing in money."

The old man barked a laugh, the sound wheezy and sickly. "Not important if we hurt 'em or not, kid. It's about standing up for what you believe in, even if it means getting the cold in your lungs and seeing people you love leave or go hungry more often than not. Not important that it didn't change anything for them. It was about us. What we wanted to be. We didn't want to be their dogs when they destroyed our land."

"You can't farm anymore," Nanaki pointed out, touched and sad for the villagers, and suddenly he didn't understand all that well how people could find the resolve to willingly cut themselves off from Shinra when they had families and didn't know if they'd even be able to feed them afterwards.

He thought of his father, too, and the image of his stoned body imposed itself in his mind.

"We manage," the old man replied simply. "Maybe we're fools. But we're our own fools."


End file.
